


One Last Dance

by jairyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Anisoka, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Fulcrum, Rebellion, Snips - Freeform, Star Wars - Freeform, skyguy, vadful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-06-12 11:22:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jairyn/pseuds/jairyn
Summary: Five years after the horrible fight with his Jedi master that left him crippled and a slave to the now tyrannical Emperor, Anakin (known now as Darth Vader), is sent on a mission to a Charity event on Alderaan. His mandate is to uncover the identity of the rising rebel agent known only as Fulcrum. Instead he's confronted with what he thinks is the ghost of his former padawan, and now has to make a choice; abandon everything he's been building and let her save him or complete his mission to squash the Empire's biggest threat?Not sure how far I'm going to go with this, but I love these two so much. (Inspired by my friend, rosaapaints)





	1. Chapter 1

"Vader," Darth Sidious hissed. 

He knelt awkwardly before the holoterminal, trying to hide the pain in his leg. It always hurt, that was nothing new. "Yes, master?" He didn't look up. He didn't make eye contact. If he did, it meant he was the Emperor's equal, and he wasn't. He was his slave. He felt wobbly and steadied himself on the small portable air tank he had to carry with him. 

"I have a mission for you. It is of vital importance."

"I'm at your service," he replied obediently, hand shaking as it held. It had been five years since the fight with his old master. The one that had left him crippled and disfigured. He was just a shell of who'd he'd once been. Which was just as well. He wasn't supposed to be him anymore. 

"You will go undercover to a charity gala event on Alderaan. I've received intel that the rebel leader, Fulcrum, will be there. I need you to learn Fulcrum's identity and destroy them."

"I'm hardly suited for a fancy gala, master. I'll draw far too much attention." He cringed inwardly. Why did he still argue with his master? It never ended well. Just as he'd predicted, Sidious hit him with a stream of purple lightning through the transmission. He lost his balance and fell to the side, gasping for breath. His breathing was labored, and painful. He sucked in, wheezing a little as he tried to recover. "I'm on my way, master," he said finally, when he'd recovered enough to speak. 

"That's better," Sidious scowled. "Now do as I've instructed. Whoever Fulcrum is, they must die."

"Your will," he gasped. "Be done." The transmission faded and he clasped his hand over his heart. He was pathetic. His master claimed as a Sith he'd have more power than he'd ever imagine. But he'd been reduced to nothing but a sniveling slave. His life had started as one, it would probably end as one.

It took him longer than he'd ever admit to regain enough strength to get up. He staggered under the weight of his breathing tank. Popping the mask over his mouth and sucking in deeply. His hand shook without his control and he grasped the side of the holotable, slowly trying to unkink his bum leg. He tentatively set it down and slowly increased the weight on it until he could stand upright again. 

He looked around at the dark empty fortress. It may as well have been a prison for all he cared. There was nothing but emptiness and death here. Towering walls, imposing, but simple decor. It was as much a void as his heart. Nothing but hatred lived here. Hatred was the only thing keeping him alive. 

 

\---

 

He scanned the room, watching them bustle about as though this were the most exciting event they'd ever been to. It was so fake, so dull. He'd rather be burning alone in his lonely fortress than surrounded by these, these... _do gooders._ He sighed, attempting to re-center his focus on the task at hand. Who here, in the hundreds of people, could be the Fulcrum? He didn't even know if it was a man or a woman, but he assumed it was a man. The Emperor suspected that Bail Organa was behind it, but was certain there was another of equal if not more vital importance. One that had singlehandedly, or so it seemed, turned the fledgling rebellion into a serious threat. 

His eyes lingered on each person only briefly. No one carried themselves in a way that belied anything other than self-importance. He watched the way heavily jewelry laden wrists flicked through the air, as women spoke emphatically while also showing off their status and wealth to any that were paying attention. Precious jewels and metals sparkled under the too bright lights. It was blinding and giving him a headache. The men milled about, trying to make connections that would benefit themselves in some way. He'd yet to see anyone that seemed out of place. Anyone that could be hiding a secret like that. 

The music stopped playing for a moment as Senator Organa appeared under a spotlight. Someone handed him a voice amplifier and he went about the business of thanking his guests for attending and the purpose of the charity. He rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders. He pulled out his oxygen mask and took a quick puff to calm his annoyance. What did the Emperor expect? That Fulcrum would appear with some kind of obvious identifier? How could he possibly find them if he didn't even know what he was looking for?

He straightened his suit jacket and ran his hand over his scarred and bald head. Probably the thing he hated the most was how ugly he felt surrounded by all these beautiful people. Obi wan had done this to him. Obi wan had stolen everything from him. At least when he could wear the suit Sidious designed for him, he didn't have to be reminded of how far he'd fallen. He couldn't wear it here though; these people couldn't know he was the hand of the Emperor. 

He saw the Queen come up beside Bail, and their little daughter trailing behind her. Even she was decked out in fancy garb. Her long brown hair done up in an elaborate style. He shook himself. Why did she remind him of Padmé?

Just the thought of his dead wife burned his insides. She'd betrayed him just like the rest. He watched Bail pick the child up in his arms, holding her as though she was the most precious thing in the world to him. Disgusting. Kids were a pain in the neck. He'd never liked them. He'd never wanted them. So, it was probably just as well Padmé's child had died with her. 

The music resumed, and he limped slowly around the perimeter. Pausing every so often for some air. He couldn't move like he used to, but at least his body was mostly intact. Riddled with scars, but intact. He could still fight if necessary without the suit, but it cost him to do so. He moved closer towards the royal family, sinking into the force. He spread his senses across the room as though baiting the Fulcrum to reveal themselves. He turned, exploring the force around him. Nothing jumped out at him there either. 

The music shifted slower, an angsty undertone for a love song. He sighed, hating the way people worshiped love. It was nothing but pain. And then his eyes snapped open. She was standing there, dressed as luxuriously as those around her. Well, the long flowing wine-red dress was simple but still far more attractive than any others. She too, had jewelry on her wrists, a golden chain around the high neck of her dress that met above her breasts and dropped down between them. Gold and silver glittered up and down her montrals, and her shapely form glided gracefully across the floor as though she floated. 

He sucked in a breath. She was alive? He was moving determinedly before he could overthink it. He grabbed her hand, putting his other around her waist. She looked up at him in surprise, her blue eyes wide, sparkling and deep; they outshone every glittery thing in the room. He pulled her into the dance before she could refuse and slip out of his grasp. She moved with him but looked decidedly uncomfortable. He did his best to ignore the limp as he led her around the room. 

He was lost only in her. He'd completely forgotten his mission. The people. Even his hatred. _Ahsoka Tano._ Seeing her again had sent him spiraling into his memories. He'd missed her so much. She was the only thing, probably in the entire galaxy, that hadn't turned against him. She'd abandoned him though, for awhile. And then... he swallowed hard. Then he'd been told she had died on Mandalore. Worse even than that, supposedly Rex had been the one to pull the trigger. He closed his eyes for a minute as everything spun out of control. He was dreaming, he had to be. She couldn't really be here. 

When he opened his eyes, he expected to be dancing with air. But instead, she was looking at him with concern. She also appeared to be trying to figure out why he felt familiar to her. She wouldn't recognize his body. It was too far gone at this point. The music slowed again, and he pulled her against him, taking advantage of the moment and her so far unwillingness to pull away and make a scene. 

He needed her closer. He needed to feel her heartbeat. Her body. Her energy. He slid his hand slowly up her bare back, savoring the softness of her skin against his rough hand. It took everything he had left to not fall to tears in that moment. She smelled sweet, like fruit. She'd grown up a lot since he'd seen her last. He wanted to taste her again. He wanted to hold her forever. He forgot for awhile that she'd been a Jedi. She was likely sensing this jumble of emotions he couldn't process right now. He didn't care what she thought as long as she stayed in his arms. 

But it wasn't meant to be. The music stopped, and she peeled herself off him. She didn't run away though, she just looked him over curiously. She couldn't know who he once was. As it was, he'd already endangered his mission here. Reality crashed into him again. "Do I know you?" she whispered. Her voice was tantalizing, like a promise he wanted to hold. 

"No," he choked finally. She raised her brow in confusion. He studied the way her white markings had spread across her maturing, now womanly, features. He resisted the urge to trace his fingers along them. Maybe he wouldn't find the Fulcrum tonight, but surely bringing back a former Jedi would earn praise from his master? He squashed out the thought. He didn't want to share her. "Thank you for the dance." It felt like he was ripping himself in half, as he turned and limped away. He could still feel her eyes follow him as he left the room. 

He sat down on a garden bench, putting his oxygen mask over his face and breathing in several times. He coughed. What the kriff had come over him? His master would not be pleased, but he feared if he didn't abandon his mission now, he'd make a far bigger mistake. Why was Ahsoka such a distraction?

He smacked himself on the head, clenching his teeth to the stinging pain that spread from the touch. Why? Because he loved her. That was why. _You don't even know what love is,_ he argued with himself. _Even if she knew who you were, she would never love you like this. She wouldn't like you either, stupid._

He dropped his face in his hands, trying not to weep. Letting her go had been the biggest mistake of his life. He knew now, she'd been the only one that really cared about him. But just like the others, he'd never let her in. And when she'd decided to walk away from the order, she might as well have taken all that was left of Anakin Skywalker. His heart had left with her. It had been gone long before the Chancellor twisted him. 

She may have only been his padawan, but their relationship had blossomed beyond all comprehension. She'd been his best friend. His compass. His comic relief. His foundation. His strength. His purpose. And of course, his true love. He'd loved Padmé... well at least he thought he'd had. But then Ahsoka had come along and suddenly things weren't so black and white. The way she had held him when he was dying inside. The way she had kissed him when he was overwhelmed and scared... the way she had touched him in her bold, unique, _feline_ , manner...

Forget Fulcrum. Forget the Emperor. Forget the dark side. His world was gone anyways. He'd give it all up to have her back. _Damn the consequences._

He pulled himself to his feet, fighting the rising fire. Even if he could possess her, one more time... for one more night... surely then his heart would give out and he could die in peace. 

He threw open the door without thinking. A few people gave him judgmental looks, but he ignored them. He scanned the room. Where was she? His heart thudded in his chest, fear icing his veins. Had she left? Did he lose her again? He swallowed the rising panic and then he saw her. 

She was sitting at the bar, her back to him. One leg was crossed over the other. She sat there so elegantly. As though this were a lifestyle she'd become accustom to. Which was odd, because she'd never struck him as materialistic. Despite how stunningly beautiful she was, she did seem oddly out of place. Her body language was tight, as though she didn't want the patrons on either side of her to touch her. She absentmindedly stirred the drink in front of her with a colorful straw. It looked as though she'd barely taken a sip. He wondered what had brought her to a party like this. But then he realized he didn't care. 

He limped towards her, forcing everyone else to step out of his way. He ignored their disgusted comments. He reached for her, like he'd touch her back again but instead he leaned down near her left lekku. "Snips," he breathed. 

She spun on him, nearly falling off the stool. She recovered herself and looked up at him, eyes wide and wild. She ignored the people that had attempted to help her regain her balance. Then she glanced around at the people near them, back at him and to his disappointment, she started backing away. 

She crashed into a couple dancing behind her and after recovering herself and apologizing to them, she met eye contact with him again. She shook her head. He watched her grapple with the truth of what he'd just revealed to her. She trembled, and her lips parted slightly as though she was having difficulty breathing. He knew that look, he knew it well. Her eyes darted around the room, and he moved as quickly as he could to catch her when she collapsed. 

Several people gasped as he lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the side of the room, away from the whispering crowd. He looked up when he saw Bail approach him. "What's going on here?" the senator demanded. But then he saw his face and seemed to lose his nerve. He wasn't exactly sure what look he'd given him, but the senator backed away anyways. Though, he felt plenty of eyes following him. 

So much for being discreet. The jig was up. As long as the Emperor didn't get word of just who had interrupted his mission. He found an empty corner, away from prying eyes and set her down. His hand resting momentarily on her cheek. He admired the way her long black lashes rested across her orange skin. He hadn't exactly meant to panic her, but she'd reacted nearly the same way he had to seeing her alive. It had been like seeing a ghost. Her arm fell limply to the side and the bag she'd had over her shoulder slid down it and fell open on the floor. 

He picked it up, digging through it. Two lightsabers. He studied them, but these weren't her normal hilts... he shook his head and dug in deeper. His fingers closed around a data disk. He pulled it out and looked it over. There was nothing remarkable about it, or unusual really. A lot of people carried data disks around. You never knew when you might need to... he glanced back at her face. It couldn't be. _She_ was the Fulcrum?

His greatest enemy, and the biggest threat to the galaxy and everything his master had built, was the only person in the world he couldn't bring himself to destroy. This couldn't be happening to him. But it was. Of course she was the Fulcrum. It made perfect sense now. She was a courageous leader. She was a warrior for good. She was intelligent. She had strategic military experience. She had a connection to and insights from the force. And more than any of those things, she was fearless. Nobody else would have the guts to so brazenly oppose the Emperor. 

His fingers tightened in a fist as he thought about destroying the data disk. But after a moment of temptation, he released it, dropping it back in her bag. If he were smart, he'd walk away right now. He'd pretend he never found the Fulcrum. He'd let his master stew on it without him. But now that he knew who it was... he didn't want the Emperor to know too. But protecting her would be suicide. 

He set his hands on her knees, sliding them up her thighs. He took one of her hands in his, rolling it over in his palm, massaging it gently as he let better memories flood his brain. How was it after all this time, they could share one dance and he'd never want to let her go again? She was the enemy. She was a part of his past. She was nothing to him anymore. But that wasn't true. She wasn't any of those things. 

"Ahsoka," he whispered, brushing her cheek. She stirred and started to sit up straighter. Then she froze, staring at him leaning over her so close. She studied his face, he watched her eyes move back and forth as though she were reading a book. 

"Anakin?" she breathed finally. He felt something stir in him at the way she said his name. She glanced around, satisfied they were alone. Then she slipped off the seat, dropping to her knees in front of him. Her hands were on his face, her fingers soft and tenderly brushing across his scars as though she couldn't believe they were real unless she touched them first. She caressed his cheek, sending shivers running through him. If he still had hair, her fingers would be in them. His lip trembled when he saw her look at him with so much love. How? How could she see everything he'd become; scarred, broken, crippled... _a monster_... and still feel love for him?

She pressed her lips against his and it felt as though a light had come on inside his head. Like an empty dwelling would spring to life when it's people came home. He looked at her again when she pulled away. It was exactly like she'd come home; home to his heart where she belonged. 

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace, as he dropped his face onto her shoulder and cried. She held him comfortingly, rubbing the palm of her hand across his back in soothing circles. It felt like every pent-up emotion he'd ever felt was flooding to the surface, leaking out his eyes. She rocked him like one might a child, and he slowly, _slowly_ relaxed into her arms.  


	2. Chapter 2

            “I thought I lost you.” He melted at the feel of her warm breath against his cheek as she kissed him again. How could he possibly explain himself? He couldn’t, he didn’t want to risk losing her again. He brought his hands up to her bare shoulders, chewing on his lip as he looked her over. “Why did you tell me I didn’t know you? On the dance floor?”

            He sat back on his heels, flinching at the pain that shot through his bum leg. “Because you don’t anymore,” he sighed. He wanted nothing more than for her to stay there with him, but he should have known better. If she stayed by his side or even in his life, she’d never let the questions rest. She’d always been that way. Too curious. And he didn’t want to have to explain himself. Some of it was just…  _unexplainable…_

            They both looked up as Bail, followed by several security guards, made his way cautiously towards them. He had a feeling Bail knew who he used to be. Which bothered him. His identity was supposed to be a secret from the rest of the galaxy. He let go of Ahsoka and struggled to get to his feet, really hoping he wasn’t going to have to fight them. “Is everything alright over here?” the Senator asked quickly, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere other than right there, but also felt it was his duty to protect Ahsoka. As if she needed protecting. 

            She was on her feet before he could say something, throwing the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I’m fine, thank you.” She nodded to them. “I just got a little heated on the dance floor and this nice…  _gentleman…_ ” she glanced at him. “Caught me when I fainted.” He stared after her as she marched away. It took all his self-control not to follow her, especially since it felt like she’d taken the rest of him with her. Did she hate him now? She must. He looked back at the senator to find him studying him warily. 

            “I’ll, uh… let myself out. Nice party…” he said, feeling stupid. He turned and started limping back outside to the garden. He felt heavy. He felt even more pathetic than he had earlier. He’d been so overwhelmed with emotion seeing her again, everything else had gone out the window. But he should have known, he couldn’t really have her; that she wouldn’t stay. What could he offer her anyways? One minute she’d been holding him like she’d never let him go, and the next… she was gone again. Maybe she really was a ghost and he’d been lonely for far too long.

            So… he’d found the Fulcrum. He’d had the perfect opportunity to destroy her. He’d failed to. The best he could offer his master was her name. A name that he was afraid if he ever uttered aloud again…  He shook his head and wandered aimlessly through the palace gardens. He doubted he’d even be able to lie to the Emperor. If he thought his life was terrible now… it was about to get so much worse. Sidious wouldn’t kill him. He’d want him to suffer.

            He thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but after staring at the spot for a moment, he shook his head again. If there was anything out here that was going to kill him, he half wanted to just make himself a bigger target. Do it. End his misery. He didn’t want to live this life anymore. Unfortunately, crippled or not, his instincts to survive were too ingrained in him to just lay down and take it. He glanced around him unsure of how far he’d walked or even where exactly he was in the maze of plants and hedges. He could barely hear the music from the ballroom, but it was dark where he was now.

            Something grasped his arm and jerked him to the side. His bum leg crumpled at the sudden movement and he was surprised that he didn’t hit the ground. She lifted him back to a standing position as if he weighed nothing. He stared at her in surprise. Had she been following him? Why hadn’t he sensed her? She was still in her gown, but all the jewelry she’d been wearing was gone and she was carrying her heeled ankle boots in her other hand. They were crammed behind a statue, between it and a tall hedge. There really wasn’t another way out than the way he’d been pulled in, so how had she gotten there without him even seeing her? Unless that was the movement he’d seen earlier?

            “Listen to me,” she said quickly looking past him at something he couldn’t see, when he followed her eyes. “Whatever happened, I don’t care at the moment. So, I’ll let it go for now. But you need to make a choice, right here, right now.” He looked back at her face. Her markings glowed softly in the moonlight. “Go back to the Emperor and be his slave for the rest of your life or come with me.” He almost laughed in her face. As if it was even a contest. Of course, he wanted to go with her. She didn’t even have to promise him anything. And if the Emperor had any idea she was still alive, that was probably why he hadn’t been informed of it.

            Though, her behavior was curious. If she  _was_  the Fulcrum of the rebellion, and the senator was involved in it, why hadn’t she wanted him to know either who he was or what she was offering him? He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Please,” he whispered. “Save me.” He pulled his breathing mask out of his sleeve and inhaled deeply. He was suddenly feeling faint. Why was he admitting he needed saving? There wasn’t even anything left in him to save…

            She watched him as he struggled to breathe. He dropped his arm to his side, the mask dangling out of the sleeve. Everything started spinning. She grabbed his arm and threw it around her shoulders and helped him as they staggered out of their hiding place. She caught his weight, somehow. It never ceased to amaze him just how strong she was for how little she was.

            She led him through the maze, he was so hazy, he had no idea where they were going. She could have taken him anywhere. He could be in danger. For all he knew, she could be taking him to his death. But truth be told, he didn't really care where they were going or what was going to happen to him. All he cared about was the way she felt next to him, how within seconds she'd become the only thing holding him up. But despite not being able to stand on his own at the moment, he wished they could dance again. There, in the garden, in the moonlight. 

            He started feeling feverish. He had no idea what was happening to him. Something felt wrong. Had he overdone his activity for the day, or was he faint being near her again?

            She froze, and he stumbled, trying not to weigh her down. The next thing he knew they were rolling under a hedge. She was on top of him, head turned as though she were listening to something he couldn't hear. He watched the side of her face, the way she'd blink slowly, her lips parting as though she were breathing in a scent no one else could smell. Watching her ancestral instincts kick in, never ceased to fascinate him. The way her predator heritage interwove with her Jedi teachings, constantly opposing each other. There was a reason very few hunter species ended up at the Jedi temple. Their lifestyles and survival depended on doing things quite the opposite of the way the Jedi saw the world. Now, if they were to become a Sith on the other hand... the two philosophies would intertwine to make them far more deadly than your average force user. 

            Not that he'd want her to become a Sith, mind you. It was just one of the interesting things he'd always enjoyed watching in her. How mentally strong she had to be to control the animal inside her. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the way it felt to have her pressed up against his body. He wanted so badly to hold her again. To run his fingers down her spine. He knew now was hardly the time, but he couldn't help himself. His hands found her waist, and he ran them slowly up her sides. 

            She turned to look at him, eyes still dark and narrow. The look of hers that belied a danger deeper than you could comprehend; when the animal surfaced. He was playing with fire touching her now, like this. But he already wasn't thinking straight, so who cared? His hands slid behind her, tracing the bare skin of her back. She flashed him a warning look, but he was into her too deeply to stop now. 

            Her mouth parted further, and she bared her pointy teeth. Ones that you normally don't see in everyday conversation with her. He'd only seen them a few times himself, and somehow it made her so much more frightening. He wasn't scared of her though, not really. He probably should be, but he wasn't. He slid his hands down to her butt and squeezed, ever so slightly. A deep guttural growl emerged from deep inside her chest, that rolled her lips. If he still had hair, it would stand on end. 

            He dropped his hands to the ground and tipped his head back, closing his eyes. He waited, wondering if she would take the bait. He had no idea what they were hiding from. He was starting to wonder if she was even part of the rebellion, let alone the Fulcrum. Surely if she were, she was safe here. Even if Senator Organa was not directly involved in it, he was probably sympathetic to their cause. So, who else could have infiltrated the party that would be a threat to her? He'd sensed nothing out of the ordinary earlier when he was feeling the air and analyzing the people. Sure, he hadn't gotten to everyone, but still. If someone dangerous was there, he would have sensed it. 

            And then it dawned on him. No, he wouldn't have sensed something that would be dangerous to  _her_ , because anyone like that would have been on his side. Who else had the Emperor sent? And had they been there to spy on him and make sure he did his job? Or had the Emperor simply not trusted him to do it and sent someone else to look for Fulcrum too? He brought his hand up to his head feeling like an idiot. No wonder the Emperor didn't trust him. From the moment he'd seen Ahsoka, he'd lost all bearings on anything else. 

            So that meant the Emperor already knew. If he hadn't known Ahsoka was the Fulcrum, he definitely did now. No wonder she'd been so sneaky and secretive about how she approached him. 

            She was on the move before he could react. She'd rolled out from under the hedge and flipped to her feet. From where he lay, he could just make her out through the branches. She'd taken someone completely by surprise, pulling her dress up far enough to kick, quite impressively, all the way up to his face. He fell to the ground in surprise when she hit him two more times with the butt of her wrist. He went limp. 

            She searched his pockets, found something and returned to where she'd left him under the bushes. Here he'd been so focused on touching her, he hadn't even noticed they were being followed. She knelt down in front of him and helped him out from under the hedge, so he could stand up again. Her eyes had changed back to their normal blue, as she wrestled the animal into submission again. He looked at her for a moment too long and she knitted her brows. He shook his head and let her help him to his feet. 

            He didn't even glance over his shoulder to see who it was she'd knocked out. He doubted he'd know them anyways. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

            She practically carried him back to her ship and up the ramp. She helped him sit down on a bench and then disappeared into the cockpit to start it up and take off. He took a few minutes to recover and try to pull himself together, taking a few puffs of oxygen from his mask. Doubts about what he was doing started creeping in and he pushed them a way and staggered to his feet. He limped to the cockpit afraid that by the time he got there, she’d have disappeared like she’d been nothing more than a fleeting dream. 

            “Ahsoka,” he breathed as the door opened and he made his way towards her. He set his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, reaffirming that she was solid and was in fact really there. She glanced up at him but turned back to jump the ship to hyperspace. 

            As soon as she checked all of the computers, he pulled her to her feet. She didn’t say anything, which confused him somewhat. What had happened to the snippy, overly curious padawan he’d once had? There was deep sorrow in her eyes as she looked up at him. And he tightened his arms around her, holding her close again, like he had on the dance floor. 

            He knew he didn’t deserve to touch her, let alone even be here with her, but he couldn’t let her go now. Every second this vision didn’t fade away was a rare second not consumed by the torturous life he now lived. He breathed her in, willing himself not to cry again. He slid his right hand up her arm and intertwined her soft and slender fingers with his own.  She didn’t complain about how scratchy his left hand must feel on her smooth back. And as he rocked her gently as though continuing their dance from before, she leaned her head against his shoulder, nuzzling her face into his neck. 

            He closed his eyes, relaxing into her soothing presence, escaping years of pain in her warm embrace. Either she knew how badly he needed this, or she’d missed him just as much. 

            “How are you still alive?” He whispered after they held each other for a long time. “Or are you just a vision? Yet another way the force deems to torture my tired soul?”

            She tipped her head back and ran her beautiful eyes over him. “I should ask you the same thing,” she said after a moment. There was some of the snippiness he remembered. But now he feared telling her the truth. Afraid that once she knew it, she’d never let him touch her again. And that was a far worse punishment than already feeling undeserving of her heat. “But I don’t want to argue tonight. I just want to hold you.”

            She reached up and touched his cheek, softly caressing the scars that acted as a permanent reminder of the worst day of his life. How could she look at this, all of it, and still feel love? She moved against him, lifting herself onto her toes so she could kiss him lightly on the cheek. It was such a simple touch, but her moist lips seeped beneath his broken skin and aching bones, scaring away the hatred and darkness; awakening something he hardly remembered. 

            “I don’t think you realize,” she started, “just what you mean to me. Or how empty I was without you.” She put her arms around his neck, pulling herself up closer like she didn’t want to let him go either. He tightened his grip on her back, pressing her against him and feeling her mold into every crack. “And maybe it’s not very Jedi-like, to love someone so much I don’t even care what you’ve done. But it doesn’t matter.” She kissed him on the lips like she wanted to crawl back inside his empty shell and make it home again. “I’m no Jedi.”

            He slid his hands down to her butt and lifted her into his arms. She wasn’t heavy, but his broken body sagged under her embrace. Though it was also possible his bones had turned to jelly as he melted into her warmth and the cavern of longing that erupted from him as he possessed her lips again. 

            He forgot about everything except her. Her kisses and her breath washed away a lifetime of suffering as she greedily took everything he could offer her. Her words had sent an antidote to the Emperor’s poison pumping through his veins. The only thing he wanted anymore was her, and he was damn well going to make sure she knew that. 

            She deserved so much better but in her touch there was truth, she only wanted him too. He wouldn’t let tomorrow sneak in. He wouldn’t let yesterday overshadow him. All he had was right here, right now, and it was only her. And he wasn’t going to lose her again. 

            Despite the crippled shell of a man he’d become, every second beneath her fingers felt like he was being healed. She carried nothing but love and lust and need, massaging it into his skin like he’d never before been so complete. He let his hazy brain, chase the pleasure of something so physical and primal, as he tried to live in her too. 

            He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up on the ground without feeling any of the pain of getting there. Or how she’d untangled his breathing apparatus and gotten him out of the layers of clothes he’d been wearing. He wasn’t sure when she’d let her dress fall away or how they carried each other into a place only they could go. Or even how it still existed after being so long deserted. 

            But he savored every second, blurring all sense of time and responsibility. Letting them be what only they could be. To say he’d missed her was an understatement. To say she’d only been his padawan was the worst kind of lie. When she’d finally managed to seep into his soul, shortly before she’d left the Jedi order, she’d become too quickly, the only thing that really mattered. 

            But the chancellor had played a game of holochess with his fears. He’d twisted everything he’d felt into some stupid game. And losing Ahsoka had meant losing his ability to think straight or even to resist. It wasn’t her fault of course, only he could take the blame for what had happened. Her death had been the last soldier to fall. The most painful wound that had crushed any ounce of resistance he had left. 

            Her hands were on his face as she moved against him, their sweaty skin creating friction and electricity. “Stay with me, Anakin,” she breathed, as she panted against his lips. “He can’t control you anymore.”

            He didn’t know if that were true or not, but he believed her anyways. Admiring her perfect face and the ocean deep eyes. The way her lips would twitch in a secret, mischievous smile. The stripes on her growing horns and head tails, were a rich dark blue, and seemed to change hue depending on her mood. Once he’d decoded their meaning, it had become the quickest way to know what she was feeling. Not that he’d needed a visual cue, he’d always felt her deep inside his soul. From the moment they’d taken their relationship further, they’d been tied together by the force. Losing her had been far more devastating than losing his arm to count Dooku or being set on fire by Obi Wan. Those physical wounds had not remotely compared to losing her. 

            “Ahsoka.” He let out a deep rattling breath that turned into a groan. She relaxed onto his chest, holding him tight. “Don’t ever leave me again,” he begged. “I don’t think I could survive it.”

            She turned her head and kissed his jaw. “Me either.”

            He ran his fingers over her back, drawing patterns and secret messages he knew she’d understand. He couldn’t feel the cold metal beneath them, only her and her heat. She draped herself dramatically over him as though she were a blanket on the coldest winter night. And as he slowly came down from the high of knowing her again, the doubts snuck in.

            “You’re the Fulcrum, aren’t you?” he asked. She smiled against his chest.

            “No,” she breathed. “The only thing I am is yours.”

            He tipped his head up to study her. It sounded so wonderful when she said it, but that didn’t change their sworn duties. He’d asked her to save him, and in so many ways she had. But he had no idea how they’d really pull it off. He didn’t want to care, he just wanted to hold her. But the doubts were buzzing in his head like angry insects waiting to consume his weary soul.

            “You’d give it all up for me?” he asked finally, leaning his head back down on the hard floor. “For this?”

            She scooted up, moving so she was straddling his waist and sat back, intertwining his fingers with hers. He admired the view far more than he probably should have. “Anakin,” she whispered. He’d never get tired of the way his name sounded on her lips. It was one the Emperor had tried to make him forget, but when she said it, it felt like he was still in there somewhere. That he could still be the man he’d once been, even though he didn’t really think that were possible. “Leaving you…” A tear streaked down her cheek. “Was the worst decision of my life. I’ve spent so long fighting with myself, trying to forget you, both then and when I thought you were killed. I can’t do it anymore. Losing you, was like losing myself.” She leaned over and kissed each of his hands softly. “After everything we’ve both suffered, I think we deserve to be selfish. Don’t you?”

            “Part of the rebellion or not, it won’t be so easy to escape him,” he said, drowning in her words as though they were a promise he didn’t want to forget.

            “Forget about him,” she said passionately. “Remember us.” She bent down and met his lips. “Together, we have everything we need to survive.” She brushed a finger across his forehead like she used to brush the hair out of his eyes. “The only thing that matters anymore is right here, right now.”

            “I wish that were true…”

            “It is true,” she said stubbornly. “You asked me to save you and I am. So why are you fighting your freedom?”

            He blinked up at her. “Because it doesn’t feel like freedom yet. Not until he’s been destroyed.”

            She smiled. “Then he will be.”


End file.
